


Paper Clip

by leiascully



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Episode Related, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 22:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14840441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: Scully was the reason he was alive and he owed her everything.





	Paper Clip

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: 3.02 Paper Clip  
> A/N: Back to it.  
> Disclaimer: _The X-Files_ and all related characters are the property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Studios. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

Something had changed while he had been in New Mexico. Light seeped from under his door. Mulder reached for his gun. It felt strange to hold it. He had been renewed, reborn. The scent of sweetgrass and the acrid burn of gunpowder didn't go together.

He opened his apartment door and swung his gun to bear on Skinner. 

What had Scully given up to be there in his apartment? What had she sacrificed to set her sights on Skinner?

Scully was the reason he was alive and he owed her everything. He didn't hesitate. He couldn't. He was glad when Skinner surrendered. There had been enough blood shed. 

He would never smell orchids again without thinking of Melissa's red hair against hospital white, and the absolute dark of the mines, and the feel of manila folders with labels so old they crackled at the touch. He would never smell orchids without thinking of funerals (most flowers would trigger the same memory, eventually). He'd missed his father's funeral, lying on his own deathbed. Another activity they'd missed the chance to do together. Whether it meant more or less than a high school baseball game, he couldn't say. Melissa's death was worse. His father had been at best complicit, and at worst, an actor in the grand conspiracy still playing out, a villian in the wings while the Smoking Man proclaimed his dire deeds. Melissa had been innocent of any global catastrophe. She had been a force for good, in her own patchouli-scented, crystal-wearing idiom. He wondered if she'd foreseen this, if some tarot spread had warned her that her heart would be her doom.

Scully wanted answers and he had none. All he could offer her was the strength of his arms.

Somewhere across the country, Albert Hosteen whispered to himself, and shook the world.


End file.
